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Waiting

A family was out vacationing at the lake one summer. Dad had been puttering out by the boat house. Two of his sons, a 12-year old and a 3-year old were down playing along the dock. The 12 year old was supposed to be watching his little brother, but he got distracted. The 3 year old, little Billy, thought that would be a good time to check out the shiny aluminum fishing boat tied up at the end of the dock. So he went to the dock and put one foot on the boat, and one foot on the dock. He lost his balance and fell into the water, which was about 5 or 6 ft deep.

The splash alerted the 12-yr old who let out a piercing scream. Dad came running from the boat house, jumped into the water, swam down, but unable to see anything, came up for air. Sick with panic, he went right back down into this murky water, and began to feel everywhere around the bottom. He couldn’t feel anything.

Finally, on his way up, he felt little Billy's arms locked in a death grip on one of the posts of the dock, about 4 ft under water. Prying the boy's fingers loose, they burst up together thru the surface to fill their lungs with life giving air.

When the adrenaline had stopped surging, and nerves had calmed down a little bit, the father asked his son, “What on earth were you doing down there hanging onto the post so far under the water?" And little Billy’s answer was a classic, laced with the wisdom only a toddler could give. He said, "I was just waiting for you dad."

Advent begins tomorrow, and we wait, not for our Father, but for the Son.   We wait not with death grips on poles under water, but with open arms for the child born in a manger.

Deacon David Pierce

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